Journal of Vidal

2

2

My love, I have tried with all my being

To grasp a form comparable to thine own,

But nothing seems worthy;

I know now why Shakespeare could not

Compare his love to a summer’s day.

It would be a crime to denounce the beauty

                Of such a creature as thee,

                To simply cast away the precision

                God has placed in forging you.

Each facet of your being,

                Whether it physical or spiritual,

                Is an ensnarement

                From which there is no release.

But I do not wish release.

I wish to stay entrapped forever:

With you for all eternity.

Our hearts, always as one.